


Would You Mind?

by Deannie



Series: Dear Love [6]
Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Death, Drama/Romance, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1997-06-01
Updated: 1997-06-01
Packaged: 2017-12-11 05:49:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/794575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deannie/pseuds/Deannie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blair has his unveiling. Part six of the 'Dear Love' series.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Would You Mind?

DISCLAIMER: You know the drill: Pet Fly and UPN own these sexy boys. If *I* owned them, I'd charge you all admission, but, of course, I don't (Sigh). More's the pity! RATING: PG 

NOTES: I really planned for Why Can't I Follow to be the last in this series. Honestly! But, I came in to work today, and was talking to a friend. She's going to go home to New Jersey next week, because her father died a year ago next Thursday. If You're Jewish, you'll know why that's significant. *AND* there are a few senners out there who pestered me about Blair's love life, which got *Blair* pestering me about Blair's love life, which... Well, you'll see. So! Quick recap. Here's a list of the "Dear Love" series:  
Just Because I'm Not There  
If I Had You Here  
While You're Gone  
How Could You Leave?  
Why Can't I Follow?  
Would You Mind?  


THANKS: to senad and sxf! A great group of people, but greedy greedy *greedy* (g)! 

## Would You Mind?

by Dean Warner  


Dear Jim, 

It's a year since your death. So it's time for the unveiling. 

Okay, I know you weren't Jewish, but I am, and it's my unveiling, not yours. 

The Blair Sandburg you knew died when you did. You'd be amazed at the changes in my life since I last wrote you seven months ago. I'll start with the changes at work, because I'm almost afraid to tell you about the changes in my personal life. 

Okay, so... The dean of my department is retiring next year, and he's posted Dr. Hillary to the chair. That means that I've been promoted to full professor now--all the perks, *all* the headaches. 

I published a treatise on "The Dynamics of Closed Culture Politics in Modern American Police Societies" last month, based on research I'd amassed during our time together. And here you thought I filled *all* those journals with notes about *you*, didn't you? So far, it's been very well-received, and I've been asked to consult with a group in Los Angeles that's trying to improve the public's perception of the L.A.P.D. 

I refused, of course. I can't leave Cascade right now... Which is the main reason for this letter, I guess. 

Simon was shot in a bad bust in late January. He was in intensive care for a month before he could finally be taken off the respirator. 

It's funny, Jim. If you'd asked me even two years ago, I'd've said that Simon tolerated me--barely. No more than that. Sure, I know you thought he and I got along pretty well, but let's be serious. I was a punk from the time I walked into that station seven years ago, and I hadn't really changed much during our time together. 

But without you, I've kind of toned down. I'm not nearly as energetic--not nearly as *happy* either, frankly. I miss you every day, and I still spend a few dark nights a month wishing that I had gone ahead and *done* something stupid when you died, just so I wouldn't have to face all those nights alone. 

Don't worry, it doesn't happen as often as it used to. I'm just trying to say that I really am not the same man you abandoned a year ago. 

And it seems Simon noticed. 

He told me you asked him to keep an eye on me. Knowing you, that's probably not what you said at all. You probably just asked him to look in on me from time to time. 

He's done a lot more than that, though, Jim. He and I started really thinking about a relationship shortly after I broke up with Candace. Oh, sorry, I keep forgetting how long it's been since I talked to you. 

Quick rundown of Blair's love life since last fall: 

Ryf and I didn't work out. Don't worry, we're still friends. It just didn't seem to be the right mix, you know? I'm not the same man he remembered bouncing around the precinct house. And that was what he wanted. Doesn't matter. He's getting married in July to the most gorgeous woman you have ever seen--perky as all hell, though. God, it's annoying! Simon was going to be his best man... It may still happen, but it looks like it's more likely to be Brown instead. More about *that* later. 

Candace is a sociology professor who moved into the University this past fall. She was interested in my study at the station, and we got to spending a lot of time together, discussing my research... 

Among other things. 

Anyway, she and I had a bit of a blow-up in mid-October. Mostly, it was your fault. I never slept with her in our bed, Jim, and she didn't understand why I couldn't do that. She wanted a "real relationship" she said, which I took to mean a relationship wherein she and I live together under *our* roof and make love in *our* bed. 

I just couldn't let that happen. So she left me. 

It turned out to be a good time for it to end, actually, since Simon broke up with Kris back in August. He wasn't doing too well with it, and I tried to help him out as much as I could. We got to be pretty good friends... And, come the end of October, we got to be a little more than that. 

It started with a Halloween party at the University. He wasn't thrilled about going, but I pretty much forced him into it. He went as Darth Vader. 

You know, if I had know that character was *really* that sexy, I'd have made you dress up like that a long time ago. 

Anyway, that was the beginning, and, for those next couple of months, we really seemed to be doing well. Right up until that fucking drug bust in January. 

Jim, when you died, I promised myself that I'd never put myself in a position to have to deal with that again. But there I was, less than a year later, sitting next to his bedside in the hospital, praying he'd come out of it. 

It'll tell you how much I've really changed when I say that I never came close to losing it while he was in that coma. You broke me of that, you know? I don't even really cry anymore... 

Hence, my unveiling. I still hate you, but I guess, in a way, I have that hate to thank for helping me through this new crisis in my life. Because that part of me that could love so entirely died when you did, I was able to just wait for him. 

I guess I should love you for that. I still love you for everything else. 

After all this, I also have a favor to ask. I know you're hardly in a position to give me an answer here, but I figure I should ask anyway. I would have wanted you to do the same if I left you. 

Simon is finally getting out of the hospital next week. Darryl has offered to move back in with him to help him out, but he's doing so well in school, and Simon doesn't really want him to give that up for his old man. 

I want to bring him home. To *our* home... I know I said that you would be my last lover, Jim. I know I said that. But *you* left *me*, man, so you can't get high and mighty on me now. 

...And I love him. 

Not the way I loved you--I can't love like that anymore... But I love him as much as I can. And I want him to come here and recover. 

I'm just writing to ask. If you have a problem with it, send a lightning bolt my way, and I'll get the picture. 

I know you won't have a problem, though. You still love me the way you always did, and I know--because you said so--that you want me to be happy. And Simon makes me happy... 

So, unveiling complete. Now I just have to figure out how I'm going to clean this place up enough for Simon to stand living here. Man, and I thought *you* were anal! 

I love you, Jim. Even after everything I've been through because of you, I still love you. 

And I still dream of you, Jim. But I can't live in my dreams, and I have to wait to see you again until the next life. 

But, man, will we *ever* have a lot to talk about. 

Take care, Lover. 

I love you, 

Blair  
  


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